Caught
by KittyKatGal
Summary: The complex relationship between Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy, from when they meet, to the day one leaves the other. Could be, like, a five-shot? No idea. Hey, I'll just go with the flow.
1. Chapter 1

"Malfoy, Scorpius."

He gulps slightly, before ignoring the mutters that are rippling across the Great Hall, and determinedly walking towards the stool.

Her head spins round as she strains to see the strange boy her father is so opposed to.

He trips slightly over his too-large robes, but keeps going, pretending not to notice the sniggers echoing around the room.

She, although she's not sure why, blushes for him, and treads forcefully on the toes of her neighbour, who is in silent stitches.

He forces the hat onto his head, and grips the sides of his seat in obvious tension.

_A Malfoy, huh? Better be -_

No! Please… anywhere but there…

_Not a Slytherin fan, I see?_

It's not so much Slytherin…It's my father - or, more accurately, my grandfather.

_You want to prove them wrong…_

I want to prove that I'm not like them.

_It's all the same in the end. So, if not Slytherin, better be… __**Gryffindor!**_

His face twitches as he restrains his delight, not even realising that half the hall has frozen in shock.

She grins for him, and applauds loudly, the only sound in the silent mass of students.

He turns to her as he walks to a hushed table, and finally lets himself smile at the sight of a girl with vivid red hair beaming, and practically jumping up and down as she claps.

She giggles, before being quieted by an embarrassed boy with messy black hair.

Unbeknownst to her, she's been caught.

"Potter, Albus."

She cheers loudly as the black haired boy climbs the steps, but is drowned out by the tumultuous applause coming from the student body.

He claps vigorously too, earning several confused glances from people who are aware of his parentage.

She increases her volume tenfold when the gangly looking boy is pronounced as 'Gryffindor'.

He moves up to allow space for the new boy, who flashes him a wary glance, before tentatively sitting down as far away from him as possible.

She frowns at the unfairness of her cousin, although not entirely sure why she is taking someone else's side.

"Weasley, Rose"

He starts slightly, before joining in with the raucous applause that seems to be mainly emanating from his table.

She practically dances up, her curls bouncing prettily.

The mental image of a swallow flashes into his head as he watches the grace of her movements.

She places the hat on her head, and sits down, her legs swinging in a carefree style.

_A Weasley, I see. Not much deliberation here then -_

Um, hello? Hat-type-thing? Um, I was wondering if you, could, well…

_Not Gryffindor?_

That would be great!

_You would have such potential there…_

I don't want to be the same. Just another meaningless name on the family tree. I want to be different.

_Different, eh? Well, I suppose you wouldn't do too badly in… __**Slytherin!**_

_Her face spreads into yet another smile, this time victorious, and she lifts the hat off her head, not quite oblivious to the gasps of shock across the hall._

_He decides that it's time to repay a courtesy, and quite literally stands up as he gives her the applause suddenly missing from the room._

_She winks at him as she skips to the table adorned with green banners, and sits down easily, as if she's quite at home._

_He blinks, and slowly sits down._

_He doesn't realise it, but he's been caught._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Outsider**__ : One not belonging to the concern, institution, party, etc., spoken of; one disconnected in interest or sentiment._

_***_

It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, Scorpius reasoned to himself. This sense of solitude, these pangs of loneliness - he'd felt them all too many times before. He could count on one hand the amount of times in his entire life that he had felt like he truly belonged.

This wasn't one of them.

Sitting here, surrounded by his new classmates, he felt more alone than ever. Everyone seemed to become groups, cliques overnight - or at least, that was how it looked from the outside.

He glanced around the room, his eyes skating over the assorted muggle objects they were probably going to be studying. He didn't care about that. He just wanted to make sure that there was someone else like him - an outsider, one with wizarding parents (therefore easier to talk to).

There was no one.

The boy with black, messy hair was already looking comfortable with his new found friends; laughing freely, sat in a careless way on one of the battered desks. He had made friends quickly - being Harry Potters son must give you some social standing, Scorpius reasoned.

He, of course, had the opposite problem.

But hey. When life hands you lemons, right?

Scorpius sat there in tense silence until the teacher strolled in, when he indifferently rose to his feet, and slouched slightly. Appearances were everything in a world where people judged you for your last name.

For the beginning of the lesson he listened - but not obviously. Although he wasn't too bothered what people thought of him, as long as his surname wasn't a factor, he didn't want to appear overly zealous - dorky, he supposed. It was only when the teacher instructed them to get into pairs when he really started to worry.

Glancing quickly about the classroom, he noticed a few loners, like him, all desperate to find a partner before it was too late. Quickly, he moved his chair over to where a dark haired, quite small boy sat, on his own.

"Partners?" He asked, nonchalantly. The boy nodded fervently, evidently relieved to not have to be pulled to the front, and put into pairs there; a public declaration of your inability to make friends.

"H-Hi - I'm Simon." The boy stuttered slightly.

"Scorpius."

"Scorpius?" The boy wrinkled his nose in memory. "Have I …heard of you?" Scorpius raised his eyebrows.

"Muggleborn, eh?" Only someone not born and raised in a wizarding household would be the slightest bit unsure of who he was.

"Oh, yes, my parents aren't w-" Simon was cut off mid sentence as Albus Potter spun around in his chair, the row in front of Scorpius, his eyes blazing: livid.

"And what difference does that make, Malfoy?" He spat, "Does that make him unworthy of your presence? Does that make him scum? Does that make you automatically better than him?" Scorpius blinked at this sudden, and, unprovoked, outburst.

"I promise you, I never meant any -" Scorpius was cut off in the middle of a sentence.

"Let me tell you something. You are nothing compared to him: you are a death eater, a prejudiced bastard - you are the son of a Malfoy: filth of the Earth. You are superior to nothing, but that's not going to stop you acting like you are is it? No, you're too up your own ass for that." Albus straightened up, obviously pleased with himself for sticking up like that, and making his point. He then turned to Simon, who was frozen in his chair, his jaw dropped, looking positively terrified. "If I were you, my friend, I'd stay away from this guy. He's bad news."

"I-I-" Simon stuttered desperately.

"His father is a dark wizard. His family tried to kill my dad. Multiple times." Albus continued, looking down at Scorpius like he was dirt.

"He d-didn't seem th-th-" Simon tried again, pressing himself back against his chair, heavily intimidated. He gulped.

"Why don't you come hang out with us, and leave the bastard where he belongs - alone." Simon gulped for the second time, obviously having a moral battle. Did he stay with the strong-and-silent boy, who had admittedly done nothing wrong, or join Albus and his gang, the biggest and most relaxed in the class. Eventually, the attraction of being part of the popular group won, and he clumsily gathered up his books, and shuffled away from Scorpius, his head bowed as if in shame. Albus shot a parting look of disgust at Scorpius, and strode away.

Scorpius sat there in shock. He hadn't meant any offence by mentioning that Simon was evidently Muggleborn - he had made no comment that even hinted that purebloods were superior in any way. Scorpius had been raised by his mother, mainly, his father being away on business most of the time. Astoria Malfoy had no strong views on Muggleborns, and had seen the sense in bringing her only son up to believe in equal society, as that was where the wizarding world was headed. Scorpius was also free from any kind of prejudice against people of different race, gender, age, sexuality - he saw everyone as individuals, no one better than another. He had attended a muggle primary school, and been through all the traditional rites of passage like birthday parties, riding his first bike, and scraped knees not immediately fixed by magic. He actually felt a lot more comfortable around the muggle community - no one judged him for his last name. He had even wanted to go with the rest of his friends to an ordinary comprehensive school at the end of Year Six, but his father wouldn't hear of it, and packed him straight off to Hogwarts at the first opportunity.

And right now, Scorpius had never wanted to be back with them more, his best mates; Alex, Daniel, James and Dylan. He didn't want to be here at a school where no one knew him for anything but his family history. It wasn't going to get any better, he could tell.

He just knew things like that - he always had - and as the teacher continued with her monotonous, droning dictation, Scorpius' head slowly sunk into his hands in surrender.

***

Rose flicked through the pages of her textbook, half-heartedly pretending to read it as she gazed off through the window. It wasn't like she needed to go through it again, she'd finished her school book list within the first two days of buying them, and practically knew them all off by heart. Well. She actually did - that's a photographic memory for you.

It was things like that, Rose mused, her gaze glancing over the school grounds, that made people think she was her mother. Everyone thought she was a little Hermione Garner replica, another grade A student, all set to sail through school, and receive top marks effortlessly. Well. That could actually be true, if she was honest. She had an IQ of 174, and found exams so easy she did practically enjoy them. She was even thought to surpass her mother in intelligence stakes, and many ministry workers had bets on which grade she would skip.

But the thing was, Rose was actually nothing like her mother. She was a careful and complex blend of characters, and many people commented on how they could see parts of themselves in her. However, there were two people who, mainly due to influence during her developing years, had truly made a mark on who she was today. The first was her aunt, Ginny Potter. Rose was quick witted, always ready with a snappy comeback, and had remarkable control over her magical powers. She was confident, and always spoke up for what she believed in. Her and her aunt were great friends, and due to early maturity in Rose's side, had pretty much always been able to have deep conversations. Rose aspired to be as successful as her aunt, as Ginny was a distinguished healer, and yet had a fantastic home life, with a family who actually got along with each other.

The other person was probably the person who Rose most resembled in personality than anyone else. Luna Lovegood and Rose had always connected on a level that no one else quite understood, understanding the other as well as themselves. Luna had often looked after Rose and her brother, Hugo, when the were small children, and these day trips, and babysitting nights, had really brought out the dreamer in Rose. She was constantly daydreaming about anything and everything, and moved with a perfect grace, as if she was dancing. Rose saw the goodness in everyone, and, as a committed vegetarian, loved animals as much as humans. She had even smuggled in two pets to Hogwarts, instead of the allowed one, as she couldn't bear to be parted from either. Her tawny owl, Phantom, had been hers since she was six, and he was a bedraggled ball of feathers, and her charcoal grey cat, Magic, was only two years old, and saved from a muggle rescue centre.

Rose combined ditzy with sharp, dreamer with confident, beauty with brains. She was a walking contradiction, and yet had managed it flawlessly, seamlessly.

In short, she was one of a kind.

Rose watched the rippling lake, it's perfect blue-green colour dappled with the soft sun of the afternoon. Water always calmed her; it reminded her of herself. Always moving, never staying the same, and yet so hard to reach the depths of.

She was suddenly rudely distracted from her reverie by her teacher, noticing her lack of attntion and darting over to where she sat.

"Miss Weasley! I clearly instruct-"

"It's Granger-Weasley, if you don't mind, sir." Rose spoke calmly, yet clearly, meeting her teachers eyes with her own brilliant green. Stunned for a second, the man promptly began to swell with indignation.

"As you clearly saw no point in paying no attention to the textbook I clearly instructed you to read, I think you should already know the answers to the questions at the end of this chapter." He spoke condescendingly, and Rose couldn't stand it. Screw staying out of the spotlight. She was giving this her best shot. "Why are magically preserved muggle documents dated from the 18th century have a lesser quantity in existence than those of the 19th?"

Rose nearly rolled her eyes. This guy had deliberately given her a question not only unrelated to what they were studying, but at either OWL or NEWT level. Either way, it wasn't going to be hard to answer. "Because during the 18th century, the wizarding world was under a dictatorship, in the midst of goblin wars. Documentation for muggles was a secondary concern for starters; people were more interested in freedom, and gaining back their rights than looking after another government. Secondly, fires created during rebellions destroyed many storage buildings so many were lost, and no one thought to replace them, as they were fighting bigger battles at the time. Thirdly, the document preservation charm had not yet been perfected, so some documentation may have been lost over the years, and lastly, the wizarding community had little or no contact with muggles, as witch burnings were common, and no one really wanted to take the risk, and then have to go through all the fuss of freezing charms on fires."

Rose sat back in her chair, and looked her teacher in the eye. The class was silent, the Slytherins and Ravenclaws lost for words. Until, at least, Agnes Parkinson leaned back, and said, in her deep, rather masculine voice, "The blood traitor's a dork as well. Jesus Christ help us all." The class burst out laughing, and the teacher coughed slightly, before wandering off.

Rose there, one eyebrow raised at their childish behaviour. She was never going to fit in this house - a half-blood-blood-traitor - but she still thought it was better than blending in, never being different. That's why she was Granger-Weasley - it put her apart from the rest. Which was what she wanted - at least... thats what she thought she wanted.

With a last glance at the empty seat beside her, Rose blocked out the taunts echoing all around, and gazed out the window, looking, once again, at the ripples of sunlight on the lake.

***

**A.N. Woop! All done.**

**Kinda.**

**Sorry I haven't updated in, like, forever, but I've had exams, and then a school play. Tad bit busy, as you can imagine!**

**I'll try to update soon, but I would like to catch up on my social life a bit!**

**Seriously. I'm practically a hermit.**

**Tis very sad.**

**Anyways. Hope you enjoy it - please alert! I like reviews, but they always make me feel soooooooo guilty! Without them, I probably still wouldn't have updated!**

**So yeah. Toodle pip!**

**Kitty x**


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